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There’s a woman who rides my bus everyday on the way home who also happens to be irritated with everyone who currently lives on the planet. Her looks are deceiving, as she appears a person you might see playing a soccer mom on some WB sitcom.

I have always been curious about her. Everything annoys this lady. Her routine is to take up two seats and use her space to scribble illegibly on a note-pad and read her crime novel by Patricia Corwell. Should you disrupt this process in any way, she will certainly let you know. If your phone rings, she will grimace and write something furiously in her note-pad. If you make friendly conversation with the person next to you, she will stare hatefully at you until you both stop.

Finally, my curiousity got the best of me. My cell phone rang and the lady shot me a look. It was my mom on the phone asking me about something important. After I hung up, I stood and pushed into the seat next to her. Stunned, she jerked her head in my direction. No words came out of her mouth.

I spoke, “Why do you dislike everyone?”

She remained speechless.

“If you dislike people who talk and people who have cell phones that ring, why do you ride the bus?”

“Excuse me?” she finally let out.

“Okay, you’re excused. If you hate people so much, then surely riding a bus is not the right environment for you.”

Her mouth lay agape.

“Honestly, lady. If everything that everyone does irritates you so badly, why aren’t you driving your car to work instead? Either start driving yourself to work or get an attitude adjustment, because no matter what, people are going to talk and their phones are going to ring. Get over it already.”

Then the bus jerked to a stop, I woke up, and I hurried out. The lady’s eyes followed me as I got off, note-pad and book in her hands, and I imagined her content sigh after watching me leave. How I wish I was as well-spoken in life as I am in my dreams.